The Dreamer
by LJP UNKNOWN
Summary: Unable to rid himself of his dreams about Harry, Draco decides to act. What will become of Harry relationship with Fred? Harry/Fred Harry/Draco
1. Chapter 1

**Chapter One: Harry's Ever present Groaning**

Sirius Black sighed contentedly as he lounged on the couch listening to the relaxing trance emanating from the wizarding radio. Ordinarily Sirius preferred listening to heavier music but for his present mood the trance music provided the perfect soundtrack. The last year of his life had been fantastic. In fact, the happy freedom he had enjoyed for the last twelve months stood in direct contrast to the miserable twelve years he had spent wallowing in Azkaban. With Harry's help he had finally stopped blaming himself for the tragic murder of Lilly and James Potter. Harry vehemently demanded that Sirius recognise that the responsibility for the murder of Lilly and James (Harry's parents) lay at Voldemort and Peter Wormtail Pettigrew's door. His godson constantly encourages him to look to the future and to enjoy his freedom rather than drowning in the past. While Sirius could never forget the occurrences that happened so long ago, or the possibility that he could have prevented it, he had managing to enjoy his life and his freedom.

Voldemort was still a powerful threat to the wizarding world and to his godson Harry in particular, he had unleashed a series of vicious and bloody attacks since his rebirth but he was also not as strong as he had been during his previous reign. Wormtail however, was presently rotting in Azkaban after the Aurors captured him just over a year ago leading to Sirius' freedom. With the use of Veritaserum, a truth potion, Wormtail had confessed to all his crimes. Sirius was declared innocent of the murders he had spent twelve years in Azkaban for and he was finally free. Sirius sighed, he hated thinking about Azkaban and he refused to do it anymore. He just wanted to enjoy his life.

Sirius quickly rolled himself a joint. He enjoyed the calming effect smoking had on him - it wasn't just the substance itself that was calming but also the steady inhalation and exhalation one does when smoking. Ever since his name had been cleared, Sirius had been free to offer Harry a home away from the hideous and abusive muggle's he had been forced to live with since the death of his parents. Sirius had also been able to take care of Harry as his parents had intended, and he couldn't help but think how proud they would be of their son. Harry was a remarkable kid, well he was getting to be a man now, and he was exceptionally like his father in looks, temperament and with his extraordinary ability to cause mischief. Judging by the near constant stream of owls he received from his friends and the frequent visitors Sirius supposed that Harry was extremely popular.

At first Sirius had found it rather surprising that Ron and Hermione weren't constantly over visiting Harry or he them. In fact they had only visited him a few times throughout the holidays. Sirius supposed that the young couple wanted to spend time alone together to explore their new relationship and as understandable as that was he just hoped that they didn't make Harry feel like a third wheel when they got back to Hogwarts School of Wizardry and Witchcraft for their seventh and final year. Harry was a sensitive boy whom had experienced far too much heartbreak for someone so young. His godson was easily hurt and any careless disregard by those he cared for could have dire consequences for Harry's stability. It was times like these Sirius really wanted to do something terrible to the Dursley's.

Thankfully, Harry also appeared to have a number of other seventh year friends who visited and owled him frequently, namely, Dean, Semus and Neville. Hopefully they could make up for any loneliness Harry might feel at the expense of Ron and Hermione's relationship.

And there was also Fred, Sirius smiled. He didn't go to school with Harry anymore having graduated two years earlier but he had spent a lot of time with Harry over the summer. Initially Sirius had found it quite surprising that Fred and Harry spent such an inordinate amount of time together, both at Harry's house and at Fred's apartment. Sirius knew that Fred was one of Ron's brothers and that he had been on the Quidditch team with Harry but he had never known that they were so close. Sirius had begun to wonder if they were best friends because of the sheer amount of them they had spent together over the summer. The mystery was solved when Harry revealed that he was gay and that Fred was more or less his boyfriend (Sirius didn't question this ambiguous comment, he just translated it to mean that they were shagging and were friends). At first Sirius had been quite stunned by Harry's revelation not because he didn't approve or was homophobic but because he had just never suspected. However, his shock had quickly dissipated much to Harry's obvious relief. Sirius was glad that Harry felt he could talk to him about things that were important to him and was relieved that Harry was accepting such a fundamental and natural part of himself more or less openly. He was also eternally grateful that Harry had found someone like Fred to explore his sexuality and boundaries with - the mischievous twin was an honest and immensely likeable young man whom Sirius was certain would never intentionally hurt Harry. And Sirius never wanted Harry to be unhappy again.

So far only Sirius, Fred and presumably George (Fred's identical twin) knew about Harry's sexual orientation. Unsure as to how they would react Harry had decided against revealing his secret to Ron and Hermione for the time being. Harry was terrified of jeopardising the friendship. Though he was sure that Ron and Hermione would accept Harry unconditionally Sirius didn't want to push Harry into confiding in his best friends, this was something that Harry had to deal with at his own pace and as he was ready. Harry had to deal with these issues at his own pace and when he felt emotionally ready to not only part with the information but to accept whatever response Ron and Hermione might give.

Sirius smiled happily as he put out his joint and glanced around his lounge room. He loved this house. He loved having a house, rather then a cave or a cell but he didn't want to think about that. He had sold his old family home in favour of a bright townhouse in the centre of wizarding London. Situated on a small, leafy alley extending off Diagon Alley their house was large, bright and cheerful. Both Harry and Sirius were extremely relived and happy to have a home and a family life even if it did resemble more of a bachelor pad at times. The first floor constituted the main living areas there was: a large spacious kitchen; a comfortable dining room; a study; a washroom and a laundry. The most important room in the house was the large, comfortable lounge room complete where Harry and Sirius spent most of their time at home just relaxing. Upstairs comprised of two enormous bedrooms each complete with an ensuite, both rooms tended to be quite messy, as neither occupant was particularly known for their neatness. There was a small sitting room where Harry kept the muggle television, stereo and computer Sirius had bought for him to make up for the years the Dursley's had denied him these sorts of muggle contraptions as Sirius was prone to call them.

A loud moaning snapped Sirius out of his reflections. "Ohhhhhhhhhh…"

Sirius chuckled when he heard Harry's moans drifting down the stairs. Harry was obviously engaged in another one of his over enthusiastic dreams. Sirius didn't have the heart to tell Harry to put up a silencing spell before he went to bed, the Boy Who Lived would die of embarrassment. Sirius presumed that Fred must put up silencing spells when he visited because Sirius had never heard a peep from Harry's room when he came to visit. Sirius rolled another joint and turned the radio up to drown out Harry's moans and groans. Harry's dreams could go on for hours; Sirius briefly considered whether it had actually been a wise move to sell his manor. He wouldn't have been able to hear Harry if his godson was located in another wing of the manor.

Chuckling, Sirius continued to enjoy his joint while Harry's groans occasionally rose up to override the music. "OHHH MY GOD."

**:**

"Ohhh fuck," Harry panted. He shuddered sitting on the end of his bed, as his blonde lover knelt between his legs licking and sucking his sensitive arousal. The combined effect of his lover's sensuous hands on his thighs, the soft sleek hair falling lightly over his penis and balls and the attention his tongue and mouth were giving to Harry's member were explosive.

"Ohhh my God…. Harder… Suck it harder, and deeper," Harry grunted throwing his head back in frustration as his lover maintained his slow and torturous pace.

Harry groaned loudly, unable to stand his torture any longer he grabbed the man's head forcefully with both hands and proceed to pull it back and forth roughly as he bucked his hips driving his cock deep into his lover's mouth. As Harry fucked his mouth, his blonde lover squeezed and massaged Harry's balls. His tongue continued to torment Harry's cock indicating his enjoyment at Harry's complete loss of control. With a final forceful thrust Harry spilled his seed deep in his lover's mouth before collapsing onto the bed legs still slug over the edge of the bed as he panted heavily.

Harry groaned as he felt his lover licking him clean and sucking every last drop out of his cock. Looking down Harry watched as the blonde head bobbed slightly around his sensitive member, he breathed deeply as he felt that wicked tongue gently cleaning every trace of seamen off his head and shaft. Harry desperately wanted to see his lovers face. He wanted to know who had made him come so hard. Almost as if Harry had voiced his wish, the blonde head snapped up, Harry noticed he had a terrifyingly familiar smirk.

"Arrrrrgghhhhhhhhhh." A terrified guttural screamed erupted from Harry.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter Two: Eloise Midgen Naked**

Harry awoke from his nightmare instantly feeling appalled and dirty. He had been fucking Draco Malfoy's mouth and loving every second of it. "Oh my God," Harry groaned not in ecstasy but in horror as he realised he had had a wet dream about Draco Fucking Malfoy. He groaned again when he realised the depth of his depravity. It was worse then just one sordid little nightmare. The blonde man, now revealed to Harry as Malfoy, had been a persistent feature of his dreams throughout the summer.

"Harry are you alright? I heard screaming, your scars not hurting you is it?" Sirius spoke frantically as he pushed open the door his bent mind overreacting to the situation. Sirius realised who erroneous his paranoia had been once he took a look at Harry's face and heard his embarrassed reply.

"I'm err fine." Harry blushed vermilion.

The whole situation was far to amusing and Sirius couldn't help what came out of his mouth next. "Are you sure? You were moaning awfully loudly Harry and frequently invoking Gods name. I could have sworn you were having a raunchy dream until you screamed so ear piercingly and with anything other than pleasure." He tried to project utter innocence and sincerity but the mischievous twinkle gave away his teasing.

Harry just groaned in embarrassment and his blush deepened. "In your dream Harry," Sirius asked with pseudo-seriousness, "…Voldemort wasn't giving you a blow job was he?"

Unable to maintain his serious façade Sirius burst out laughing. Harry however, choked barely managing to snap out a vehement "NO!" Blushing profusely, Harry continued in a barely audible whisper, "…but you were close."

Sirius' laughter abruptly ceased. His face quickly changing from one of deep amusement to shock in a matter of seconds. He managed to splutter out, "…It wasn't… God forbid… Snape was it?" He was deeply appalled by the very idea; Sirius loathed Snape with a passion.

Harry roared with laughter, throwing a pillow at Sirius, as he yelled "No!"

"Thank God for that." Clearly relived, Sirius decided to cease his teasing and play the responsible (for want of a better word) godfather. "Here, I'll make you a joint so you can get back to sleep."

"Thanks. I'll err be down in a minute. I'll just have a shower first." An extremely embarrassed Harry replied, his blush returning with a vengeance.

"Bit sticky are we?" All thoughts of his promise to stop teasing Harry vanished as Sirius laughed heartily. Wiping the tears out his eyes, he managed to mumble "...see you in a bit..." before heading down to the kitchen.

**:**

Harry removed his bed sheets, throwing them into the laundry basket in his bathroom. He then proceeded to remove his sticky, soiled boxer shorts, disposing of them in the same manner. Striding over to the shower Harry briefly considered the hot tap, but opted for the safety of a pure cold shower. He didn't want to resurrect anything from that nightmare; he shuddered at the mere thought. Stepping into the shower Harry proceeded to wash himself thoroughly while visualising Eloise Midgen naked, dripped in honey. If anyone could help counter an erection it was Eloise. She was an exceptionally ugly girl with a densely spotted face in the same year as Harry at Hogwarts School of Wizardry and Witchcraft.

Drying himself thoroughly Harry padded back into his bedroom naked and in search of some fresh boxer shorts. He finally settled on a pair of blue satin boxer shorts that Fred had given him the week before.

"Harry come and get it." Sirius called from the kitchen. Harry left his room at Sirius' request padding lightly to the kitchen where much to his surprise, not only had Sirius made him an enormous joint but a cup of hot chocolate as well.

"This will keep the nightmares at bay Harry" he chuckled.

"Thanks Sirius." Harry took a sip of his hot drink and then lit the spliff inhaling deeply. "You want some Sirius?"

"No thanks, I've had some…" he said slyly, "…probably a bit to much," he concluded with a giggle. They remained quite as Harry enjoyed his spliff. Once Harry had finished and turned his attention to his hot chocolate Sirius spoke again. "I'm going to visit Remus tomorrow, so if I'm not here when you wake up that's where I'll be."

"Oh right, enjoy yourself. I'm going to visit Fred tomorrow so I might not be home when you get back."

"Fair enough," Sirius replied evenly. "Night then." Sirius got up from the table and headed towards his bedroom.

"Night."

After draining his cup Harry returned to his bedroom, collecting a new set of sheets from the linen closet on his way. Harry half-heartedly put the sheets on his bed then dove onto the mattress with a sigh. He was grateful for Sirius' ever-constant pot supply and he desperately hoped that it would send him off to sleep. Only a deep, deep slumber would keep that nightmare at bay.

Harry drifted off to sleep thinking about how happy he was to be visiting Fred the next day and how he enjoyed their fulfilling yet casual relationship. They experimented thoroughly, Fred more than happy to introduce Harry to the wonders of lovemaking. While they might not be boyfriends, they were definitely friends and the intimacy they now shared only served to strengthen that friendship. Harry didn't only know Fred and George anymore, he now knew Fred as a distinct and separate person not just one half of the total. Harry liked their open relationship because it gave him a chance to explore his own sexuality with out complicated emotional demands and pressures. He loved the fact that he had gained a third best friend as a consequence of the amount of time they spent together, the nature of the encounters and how well the got along together.

**:**

Harry awoke late the next morning to an empty house. He busied himself making breakfast, deciding to shower after he had assuaged his hunger. Harry took his cup of tea and toast into the lounge room so he could listen to the radio by the fire while he ate his breakfast. An appreciative whistle startled Harry whom had been concentrating on eating his breakfast and hadn't noticed Fred's head pop up in the fireplace - wizard's had strange methods of communication.

"God Harry… come over like that." A drooling Fred spoke as he nodded his head in the general direction of Harry's lap, his eyes boring holes into Harry's crotch. Presuming Fred meant that he looked nice in the boxers he had given him, Harry wasn't prepared for the sight that greeted him when he looked down. His boxers were gaping and his cock was proudly on display, Harry immediately understood why Fred was drooling. "Err Harry… come over soon." Fred managed to get out. His face turned to disappointment as Harry laughed and corrected his boxer shorts spoiling Fred's fun.

"I'll just finish my toast then. I haven't had a shower you know?"

"Just come over like that, the stench I can handle. Now I must go or my drool will put out this fire or something." Fred left in an instant. Harry quickly gobbled down his toast and skulled his tea.

Harry quickly packed a bag with his Robes so that he could get dressed later. He then ran back to the fireplace that Fred had recently vacated just as eagre to see Fred, as Fred apparently was to see Harry. Throwing in some Floo Powder, Harry stepped into the flames and yelled "Gred and Forges love shack!"


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter Three: One Harry Potter Laced**

Although the twins spent more time apart than ever before they were unwilling to part fully and had bought a large, high rise apartment in the centre of wizarding London big enough for them to share. By far the most popular room was the lounge with its spacious proportions and panoramic view of London the twins tended to congregate in the lounge when in residence. Presently George was lounging in front of the fire his feet resting on the coffee table while Fred sat slumped in an armchair breathing heavily after his little chat with Harry.

Fred and George had come along way since finishing their schooling. They owned a profitable company called Weasley's Wizard Wheezes where they not only ran the company but also maintained an active role in the design and production of quality mischief aids. As dedicated mischief-makers themselves it did not come as a surprise when other delinquents began to appreciate their genius and the quality of their goods. Their share of the market far surpassed that of Zonko's - previously the oldest and most prestigious company dedicated to facilitating mischief. The twins had made quite a lucrative profit from WWW and so were able to take care of their rather large family. They had bought Percy an apartment and assumed control of Ron and Ginny's expenses, though they had immense trouble getting their parents to accept any overly large gift.

"Georgie boy did you get that stuff?" Fred asked keenly. He wanted his plans for Harry to go smoothly as he would not get to see his sexy Gryffindor until Christmas, which was over three months away.

"Yep," George replied, shifting so he could dig in his pockets for Fred's stuff. Pulling out a small silver package he threw it to Fred.

"Shouldn't you be leaving?"

"All in good time." George responded evenly. He knew that Fred wanted him to be gone before Harry arrived but George loved annoying Fred so he delayed his departure, anticipating Harry's immanent arrival. George was almost worried for the Boy Who Lived, Fred had come up with some terrifying plans in his lifetime - Harry should quite possibly be very afraid.

**:**

"'Ello boy's" Harry winked. One might suppose that landing in someone's lounge room in nothing but boxers might make one blush, but Harry just smiled sweetly. Ordinarily Harry would have died of embarrassment but he had become so incredibly comfortable around the twins he did not even blush. The reason for Harry's comfort was not just because of the twins' easygoing nature nor because he had known them along time but also because of the fact that they both knew who he was essentially and they accepted him unequivocally. He trusted them implicitly with the secret of his sexuality; he trusted them in a way he was not ready to trust anyone else - Sirius aside.

"In a bit of a hurry Harry?" George smirked, looking at the near naked Harry who had just stepped out the fireplace in boxers and carrying a bag.

"He's gagging for it… but who can blame him really," Fred joked, as he pretended to primp his hair and flex his muscles.

"You just fuck him because he's famous." All three of them burst into laughter at Georges comment.

It took a few minutes for the laughter to die down before Fred could ask rather pointedly. "George, Aren't you going somewhere?"

"Oh yes, that's right, I was going to make myself scarce. Fred's not the only one shagging someone famous Harry. I'm on my way to a delightful little orgy with the Weird Sisters." George gave them an evil grin, raising his eyebrows up and down suggestively. "I'll see you boy's later." George promptly apparated out of the apartment, a smile of anticipation etched on his face.

"Well that should be educational for him, to say the least," Fred commented dryly as he stalked towards Harry.

**:**

Fred eyed the near naked Harry, from the top of his head to his tiptoes he was a gorgeous specimen; Fred found himself almost drowning in the splendour of Harry's physique. By the age of 17 Harry had grown to be slightly taller than Fred though where Fred was more on the stocky side Harry was trim and firm like a freestyle swimmer. He had defined muscles that were lean rather then bulky, strong shoulders, arms and legs and a firm structured chest. The satin blue shorts looked breathtaking against Harry's olive skin accentuating just how different he was from the small meek boy Fred had meet 6 years ago. Fred couldn't help congratulate himself on his fine taste in boxers… and men. Fred's eyes eventually turned to survey Harry's face, noting the typically unruly hair and the absence of his trademark glasses (Depending upon what he was doing Harry tended to alternate between glasses and contacts nowadays). Harry looked ruffled, as if he had just gotten out of bed and Fred wanted very much to eat him alive.

"Are you to touch me or just keep staring at me?" Harry's amusement highly visible as his mouth broke into a sexy little smirk.

Not needing a second invitation Fred stepped forward and pulled Harry into his arms capturing his lips in a kiss. Harry responded immediately, his arms came up to close around Fred's neck forcing their bodies closer while he sought to deepen the kiss with the pressure of his tongue. Their tongues battled while Harry pulled them closer and closer together Fred's hands roaming Harry's body before finally coming to grip Harry's firm backside. Harry pressed himself harder against the red head so that Fred could feel Harry's erection against his belly. Fred broke the kiss, stepping back from the embrace slightly to give Harry an evil little grin. "You are fucking beautiful Harry," he growled.

The Boy who lived just chuckled, gracefully moving towards the couch where he promptly lay down. Stretching himself out enticingly and placing his hands behind his head in a relaxed fashion, Harry's erection was once more visible through the gapping front of his boxer shorts. Harry licked his lips provocatively before speaking in a sexy purr, "…now that I'm here… what are we going to do?" Harry's smile increased when he heard Fred's hastily drawn breath.

"Fuck Harry," Fred muttered, trying to pull himself together which was a rather difficult task when Harry was lounging unashamedly on display. He had plans for this sassy little minx, and he couldn't blow it now by succumbing so quickly to Harry's considerable charm. Forcing some clam, Fred went to sit in the armchair fartherest from Harry. "Remind me to buy you boxers that don't bloody gape next time," Fred commented dryly. Harry chuckled as he sat up.

"Bit to hot for you am I?" Harry Joked as he gingerly got up from the couch, so that he could slide in behind Fred. Harry crossed his legs around Fred's chest and proceeded to nibble at Fred's ear.

"Ahh, Harry stop that, I want you to try something." Fred indicated the small silver package in his hand that he unravelled to reveal a white substance. Fred tipped the substance onto a board and then began to chop it into a fine powder as Harry continued to nibble at Fred's ear. "Harry I am trying to concentrate," Fred muttered exasperatedly.

"What is this?"

"Muggle's call it speed but George knows a Wizard who alters it so its even better… he never named it though," Fred informed him. "You'll love it my experimental little lover." Harry bucked his hips, forcing Fred to alter his comment. "Jesus Harry, I didn't mean your dick was little, you bloody well know its not." Fred chuckled as he passed Harry a small straw, indicating the two white lines Harry was to snort. "Have them both Harry, it will wake you up and I'll have some later."

Harry untangled himself from Fred and knelt on the floor between Fred's legs and the coffee table. Putting the straw slightly up his nose, Harry pressed the other nostril closed with a finger and followed the lines sniffing deeply. Once he had completed the lines Harry spun around to capture Fred's moth in a hungry kiss.

**:**

Harry stood up, easing his boxers over his hips he let them to fall to the floor, he was pleased when he heard Fred gulp. "Coming?" he asked flippantly as he unashamedly strolled to Fred's bedroom completely naked. Fred chuckled, appreciating the Boy Who Lived to Tease and Deliver more and more. Thinking himself a very lucky man Fred grabbed the plate of drugs and headed towards the bedroom in search of his raven-haired lover and determined to carry out his plan.

He found Harry enticingly spread on his bed blatantly encouraging Fred's mischievous streak. With a surprising calm he placed the plate on the nightstand and casually reached for his wand. Giving Harry a sly little smirk he muttered a spell binding Harry's wrists and ankles to the bed the little minx looking positively delighted at Fred's plan. Vowing to give Harry a through definition of exquisite torture Fred began to remove his clothes. "Harry, Harry, Harry," he tutted as he slowly removed his shirt, Harry's eagre eyes following every movement. He slowly undid the button and fly of his jeans his eyes never leaving his sexy prey as he removed his pants and tossed them carelessly aside. As his hands made their way to the waist of his boxers Fred noticed his lovers expectant gaze so decided to keep them on for the time being.

Fred crawled onto the bed capturing Harry's lips in a tender kiss, moving just out of reach as Harry tried to deepen the kiss. Fred smirked at the agonising frustration evident on his lovers face - it was so good to be in control. Fred repeated this exciting, teasing sequence a number of times before taking pity on his lover. Lying down on top of Harry, Fred pressed his lips against his lovers; Harry deepened the kiss immediately forcing his tongue into Fred's mouth, a clear indication of his frustration at his restricted mobility. As their tongues battled they ground their erections against each other stirring moans from both boys. Fred wished he had removed his boxers, he wanted to feel Harry's penis against the flesh of his own not his boxers.

Fred broke the kiss, easing himself off Harry he reached for the plate. Raising one finger, Fred quickly sucked it before dipping it into the speed with his eyes focussed on Harry; Fred sucked all traces of the powder from his finger. Using the same finger Fred dipped it in the powdery substance and then pushed it into Harry's keen mouth; Harry sucked and licked Fred's long finger with apparent relish. "You'd like to do that to something else wouldn't you Harry?" Fred purred. Beyond the point of rational speech Harry could only look at Fred through heated eyes. Fred chuckled lightly, pleased that he could stimulate such responses from Harry. "Don't move ok. " Harry nodded weakly in response to Fred's demand.

Fred scooped up some speed and gently deposited it in a thin line from Harry's pectorals to his navel, straddling Harry's thighs Fred proceeded to slowly lick the powder off Harry's muscular torso his hands coming up to squeeze Harry's nipples as Harry withered and moaned beneath him. Fred trailed kisses down Harry's stomach, wriggling lower on the bed so he could position himself to tend to Harry's pulsating erection. Leaning in close Fred stared at Harry's erect penis mesmerised by the pre come seeping out the head, his hot breath playing across the tip causing Harry to clench his stomach muscles and indicating his increasing frustration at the restraints. Frantic eyes darted back and forth trying to convey that he couldn't take much more of Fred's teasing.

Fred clamped his lips over the tip of Harry's penis, taking his enormous penis fully into his mouth inch by inch before pulling back enjoying the slight taste of come. Smiling slyly up at his lover Fred reached out for a pinch of speed. Harry groaned as Fred sprinkled the white powder lightly over his moist penis and placed his fingers around the base of his lover's shaft. Fred lightly licked every trace of white powder from Harry's cock eliciting almost violent withering from his raven-haired lover and a primal moan.

"Please Fred?" Harry whimpered.

Taking pity on his prey, Fred pushed the plate of speed away determined to work on his lover properly; he could sympathise with Harry his own throbbing erection was almost painful. Taking Harry's swollen head in his mouth Fred swirled his tongue around the tip Harry moaning deeply in response. Fred took Harry's cock deep into his mouth; licking and sucking Harry's sensitive skin as his free hand gently massaged Harry's balls. The Boy Who Lived could only groan as Fred's wicked tongue drove him towards his climax, his stomach and thighs tensing. Due to the excessive teasing Fred had subjected him to it didn't take long for Harry to come, spilling his seed into Fred's mouth. After swallowing all of Harry's juices and giving Harry's cock a few rudimentary clean up strokes Fred wriggled his way up the bed to look at his beautiful raven haired lover. His black, disorderly hair was sweaty and his cheeks flushed with desire, Fred couldn't believe how beautiful Harry looked. Fred felt an immense sense of pride that it had been he whom had done this to the famous Boy Who Lived; it had been he who had left Harry looking so thoroughly taken and satiated. He was Harry's only lover - ever!

As his panting died down Harry felt his body relaxing, "fuck Fred," was all he could say.

Fred chuckled lightly, "I presume that was a compliment Harry?" The boy in question just gave a shaky smile in response far to spent to offer a witty retort.

Fred placed the plate back on the nightstand and picked up his wand so that he could free Harry's legs from the bindings. Carelessly flicking his wand to the side of the bed, he crawled back on top of Harry his arms supporting him as he leaned in to place a tender kiss on Harry's lips. Harry ran his tongue lightly over Fred's swollen lips, kissing him sweetly at first and then more desperately as the passion mounted. Harry drew his legs up locking them around Fred's waist desperately urging him closer. Fred lay down completely, his hands cupping Harry's face and deepening the kiss. He needed Harry so badly at this moment; he wanted to be inside him.

Breaking the kiss briefly, Fred quickly licked his fingers, before returning to the kiss as his tongue battled with Harry's he slowly inserted his finger into Harry's anus, loosening the tight muscles. Harry's cock stiffened in response to Fred's probing, his body withering wildly. "Fred fuck me now. I want you inside me." Quickly sheathing his cock with spit Fred positioned himself outside Harry's entrance with his eyes locked on Harry he slowly eased himself inside his lover feeling the tightness envelop his sensitive arousal. Considering the half hearted preparations Fred paused; not wanting to hurt Harry and wanting to make sure that Harry had a chance to become accustomed to his cock. "Fuck me hard Fred," Harry demanded, bucking his hips in protest to Fred's stillness and attempting to generate some friction between them. Fred loved it when Harry said filthy things during sex; there was just something so erotically wrong and right about the wholesome boy who lived muttering filthy demands.

Eagre to please, Fred drew his penis out before slamming back into Harry. Fred began to pound into the Boy Who Lived, establishing a fast and furious pace. As Fred felt himself near his climax, he gripped Harry's erection skilfully stroking it in time to his thrusts. Harry came first, spluttering his seed over their stomachs; Fred followed a short time latter collapsing onto Harry. Fred patted his hand out on the bed in search of his wand; sighing with relief when he found it, he muttered a releasing spell freeing Harry from his restraints entirely. Rolling off his lover Fred spooned up behind his Gryffindor seeker and they drifted off to sleep.

**:**

Harry smiled as he thought about the night before while he ate his breakfast. After they awoke from their short nap Fred and Harry had proceeded to rate every room in the apartment - bar George's - in terms of its sex factor. They had retried all the old favourites such as the bathroom, kitchen, lounge and Harry and Fred's favourite, the dining room table. Harry wondered whether he would ever be able to look George in the eyes again. He had arrived home merely half an hour ago. Reluctant though he was to leave Fred he had to spend his final day before returning to school with Sirius.

Unfortunately he also had to pack and Harry hated packing. The only joy summertime packing had ever held for Harry was that if had to pack it meant he was leaving the Dursley's behind but that particular 'joy' had thankfully disappeared. Harry felt slightly apprehensive about going back to Hogwarts in a way he had never felt before. He would miss Fred and the way he could be when he was around his ginger haired lover. Harry was only truly himself and fully comfortable within himself when he was either alone or with Fred and Sirius, but neither would be at Hogwarts. Having no idea as to how Ron and Hermione would react to his secret Harry was not looking forward to telling them about his homosexuality - but he knew that he must. Not telling them was like an oppressive weight forcing him to pretend to be something he wasn't. Harry just hoped that he would be able to muster enough courage to tell them. Then there was Malfoy, Harry did 'not' want to see him; he had absolutely no desire to relive that particular nightmare.

All in all Harry was frightfully less happy to be returning to Hogwarts then he had ever been in the past. He briefly wondered whether he would feel the same if he was still stuck with the Dursley's but ruled that thought out as ridiculous.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter Four: Pug Face Comes to Visit Eyes closed Draco stood motionless under the shower, allowing the hot water to wash over his body slightly burning his skin and relaxing his tense muscles. Steam filled the bathroom making him feel slightly dizzy and as though he might faint at any moment. Although his body remained still mentally Draco was undergoing his daily struggle with his bodies demands. He was frantically trying to eradicate the frighteningly erotic scenes playing before his mind but he was loosing the battle, not even the thought of Pansy Parkinson naked could be of assistance. The image of Pansy was repeatedly wretched from his mind to be replaced with the image of a wanton, raven haired boy with deep green eyes and olive skin. Draco groaned as he remembered his most recent dream, it had been so vivid Draco could smell, taste and feel his lover's body. The dream had left an impact on Draco; he had awoken to find his skin glistening with sweat and a morning glory to rival all others. In his dream, Draco remembered, the famous Boy Who Lived had been on all fours ramming back to meet Draco's fierce thrusts. Groaning in defeat, Draco lowered his hand to grip his sensitive arousal as the water cascaded over his body. Beyond fighting he gave in to his bodies demands stroking himself. Concentrating on the vision of his dream Potter - naked, muscular skin glistening with sweet sweat, positioned on his hands and knees with Draco station behind him - the blonde boy slowly stroked himself. Breathing heavily, Draco leaned one hand against the shower wall to support himself as his other hand pumped his cock with increasing vigour. As he felt himself near his climax, Draco's stokes became more desperate and less concise till with one final tug he came hard, moaning loudly as his seed erupted from his raw penis.

Draco slumped against the shower wall; panting heavily he watched the remnants of his desire disappear down the drain. He preferred wanking in the shower because all the evidence washed away. There was nothing for him to clean up nor did he have the house elves knowing his business like he did when he left latent 'deposits' on his sheets.

"Oh God," Draco groaned as he clasped his head in his hands highly annoyed with himself.

It was always the same. For the last four months Draco had had the same start to his day - if it was not for the fact that the rest of his day tended to differ he would swear that he was stuck in time, forced to follow the same sequence repeatedly with no end in sight. Every morning he would wake up from some dream in which Potter featured as some sort of decadent hussy and then he would spend an hour or so trying to fight the urge to touch himself. It was a fruitless battle, he always gave in, all it took was a brief reminder of his dream to make him aroused and his traitorous hand would sneak down to curl around his penis. And every morning he had to contend with the shame of his own weak will, recognise that in wanking to images of Potter he had buckled yet again. That he gave in meant that every morning he was provided with yet another instance of loosing to Potter - he always ended up loosing to Potter. His present situation just served to reinforce and intensify the hatred he felt for the famous Potter who always won. But he still wanted to fuck the Boy Who Lived and the knowledge of this filled him with shame and rage.

While he might have satisfied his body Draco felt wholly undignified and soiled by what he had done, and even more so because he knew what he really wanted to do to the raven haired boy. The only consolation was that he knew he only wanted to shag him, to satisfy his animalistic cravings however gratuitous that might seem. He had absolutely no desire to get to know the boy who lived or to take things slowly and make love to him, and he certainly was 'not' in love with him. He just wanted to fuck him and then discard him. As much as the knowledge of his own desire made him feel dirty and occasionally question his own sanity Draco could not deny that it made him extremely excited. He couldn't wait to have Potter in a position similar to his dream Draco would be merciless once he got his chance. Bearing in mind that it could be worse, Draco hopped that in time he could come to feel better about the whole sordid affair as his moments of acceptance were fleeting and never long-lasting.

What had started as an odd recognition of Potter's physical appeal had quickly followed on to a continuing sequence of dream fantasies and a desperate desire to fuck the raven hair 'god' of Hogwarts. Sometimes Draco felt a bit like a groupie, he was well aware that half of Hogwarts at least wanted to get closer to the famous Harry Potter, it was just infuriating that he wanted to as well. But he would do it.

Grabbing the soap from the ledge Draco began to wash himself thoroughly, he couldn't stay in the shower forever. He had to go down to breakfast but he had to get ready first and that could take quite sometime for a perfectionist like Draco. He was simply not prepared to leave his room looking anything but his best and if he was brutally honest about his own vanity he would admit that he could not even tolerate looking less than perfect when entirely alone and with absolutely no possibility of meeting a single living person. Draco turned off the taps, stepping out onto the cold tile floor he reached for a clean towel. He once more felt as though he would faint, the bathroom was so hot, the steam hung in the air and water dripped off the ceiling. After drying himself thoroughly Draco reached for his deodorant spraying it liberally under each arm before applying some cologne. As far as he was concerned there could be absolutely no excuse for stench.

Dropping the towel for the house elves to clean up Draco headed for his dressing room; he enjoyed watching himself prepare and dress in the full- length mirror. After squeezing some moisturiser on to his torso and legs he began to rub it into his skin deliberately sensual as he watched himself in the mirror. Glistening and smelling fresh Draco surveyed himself in the mirror; he really was pleased with every facet of his body. He was the perfect height, neither short nor tall, with graceful legs and arms his chest well defined and muscular. Turning around Draco craned his neck to look over his shoulder, he smiled grateful that he had a nice arse. However what pleased him most about his body was his milky white skin Draco thought it made him look pure and ethereal.

"Ahhh Draco you are hot," he purred to his reflection, smiling smugly and apparently unaware how bizarre it was for a person to speak to their reflection or to be quite so in love with said reflection.

Draco often wondered (much to his disgust) what Potter looked like without his Robes on and whether he looked as good as Draco. He seriously doubted that the boy who lived could live up to Draco's expectations. As his dream vision was an Adonis with Harry's face stuck on and he had an amazing sexual prowess Draco fully expected to be disappointed when he finally got to take Potter to bed. He was undecided as to how he exactly felt about the prospect of Potter being lousy in bed. On the one hand in would eradicate the desire he currently felt for his nemesis and would lead to the end of the dreams that had been haunting him but on the other hand he desperately wanted to experience the dream Potter in reality. But Draco considered the latter highly unlikely, even if Potter's body could rival his dream vision Draco was adamant that Potter was a virgin. But then this also held a charming appeal, breaking in the boy who lived and possibly hurting him emotionally as well would prove to be a rewarding experience. Whatever the outcome Draco was certain it would be worth the effort and trouble one way of the other.

Rummaging through his clothes Draco grasped a set of sleek silver robes. He then selected a pair of tight silver boxers, watching himself in the mirror as he pulled them on and adjusted his assets. Draco much preferred tight boxers in a clingy fabric so that his package remained confined. Smiling at his reflection, Draco was pleased to note that he looked just as good with his underwear on as with out - different kinds of appealing. Covering his beautiful body with the robes, Draco sighed as he adjusted and smoothed the fabric so that it sat exactly as he intended. Everything was bought so that it displayed Draco in his most favourable light.

Sighing Draco sat down at his dressing table to make the final touches to his appearance. He applied some facial moisturiser being careful to smooth is eyebrows into the perfect arches he specifically plucked them to resemble. A quick glance showed that they were as neat as usual; there was no lone hair that Draco needed to enlist the help of his trusty tweezers to remove. Fixing his hair took considerably longer, as he had to primp and flick his hair until it was styled perfectly before applying some adhesives that ensured it remained perfect and unmoving all day long. With a final sigh Draco put down his comb, finally pleased with the result of his labours he got up from the dressing table to stand before the full-length mirror once more. A final glance revealed Draco was indeed looking his best and was fit for public appreciation.

"Potter should consider himself lucky that I want him," Draco muttered, giving his robes a final pat down he spun on his heel exiting the dressing room. Personally Draco considered himself much to good for the orphaned Boy Who Lived but he could not deny that he still wanted him and he would not deny his body its demands. But that did not mean he would stoop so low as to be nice to Potter, he would find a away to get Potter in his bed without sinking to those depths. He smiled evilly, wondering just how much Potter had suffered over the summer, if his plan had worked Potter would have suffered a great deal. Draco was a vengeful person, he always made sure that anyone who made him suffer - however unintentional - never went unpunished.

: Draco entered the bright morning room in a whirl of fabric his scent filling the room. Unlike the evening dining room this one was cheerful and tastefully decorated with antique furniture. A mahogany table piled with a variety of breakfast food stood in the middle, Draco's parents seated at either end with a place set for Draco between them. "Morning Mother," Draco greeted as he glided over to kiss his mother on the cheek.

"Morning Draco Dear," Narcissa replied, accepting his kiss, waving her hand gracefully in the general direction of the table "┘have some breakfast."

"Father," Draco nodded in the direction of his father as he took his seat, receiving a curt "Draco" in response. After selecting some tasty fruits and pouring himself a glass of juice Draco began to eat his breakfast. "Do we have any engagements today father?" He asked after a while.

"The Parkinson's are coming over late this afternoon and staying for dinner," his father replied a slight smirk playing around the edges of his mouth.

"Pansy will be coming Draco, won't that be nice," Narcissa informed him in amusement as his father snorted into his cantaloupe, they both knew just how much Draco hated his bride to be.

At the mention of Pansy Draco stiffened, he hated her more than he hated Potter; resenting the fact that he had to marry someone so incredibly grotesque. He felt that as he was gay he should not have to marry a hideous creature with breasts, if he must wed the ugly, then at the very least that person should have a penis. Draco wondered what would happen if he told them about his orientation, would they make him marry her still?

"Mother. Father. I think there is something you should know." Expecting the news to come as a shock, Draco spoke firmly. " I am a h-o-m-o-s-e-x-u- a-l," Draco said, pronouncing every letter of the word clearly.

Whatever outcome Draco had been expecting it certainly wasn't the laughter that followed in the wake of his pompous announcement. His father muttered to Salazar as he tried to compose himself, "I knew it." Draco was perplexed and beginning to feel highly uncomfortable. He was at a loss to understand why his confession was so amusing to his parents until his mother informed him sweetly.

"No offence Draco dear but we already knew," Narcissa spoke, reaching out a hand to pat Draco's. "Its actually quite obvious."

Surprised Draco pulled his hand away. "I beg your pardon?" Draco said indignantly, not liking the implication of his mother's words.

"We've suspected for quite a long time Draco," his father drawled.

"But we were absolutely certain after that party your father threw for returning death eaters in the South of France last summer, remember that Lucius?" Lucius nodded his head in response as he laughed.

"Excuse me?" Draco remembered the party but he had absolutely no idea what they were referring to, he couldn't remember doing anything at that party.

"Well most teenage boys would have spent time appraising the assets of the scantily clad harlots your father hired to waitress but you did not do that 'once' Draco," his mother explained, trying not to laugh at her son's horror struck face.

"He was to busy┘ What was it you said? Ah yes┘ appraising the assets of the young French death eaters," Lucius pipped in, causing both adults to chuckle heartily. Draco however, was stunned; he had no idea how to respond to this situation.

"Then there is the fact that you spend so much time and effort on your appearance Draco dear," Narcissa informed, seemingly unconcerned about Draco's rising mortification. "Your clothes have been getting considerably tighter and more stylish," she waved her hand at his present outfit to emphasise her point. "You exfoliate and moisturise┘ and I don't think I have ever seen you with a hair out of place." Narcissa concluded, she had many other examples to give of Draco's odd little quirks, which set her Gaydar off, but she decided to take pity on the boy. The boy in question just sat there not quite sure of where to go from here but hopeful that after they finished amusing themselves at his expense he would be released from his binding to Pansy.

"Draco all we are saying is that we already knew," Narcissa injected into what was becoming an uncomfortable silence, except for the occasional chuckle from Lucius. "But thank you for confiding in us."

"┘And you're okay with this?" Draco asked in amazement.

"Of course we are Draco dear," Narcissa spoke as she got up to give Draco a reassuring kiss on the cheek. "Now I must dash, I have to buy a dress for this evening," she said before gliding gracefully out the room leaving Draco and Lucius in an uncomfortable silence.

Draco finally spoke, anxious to make sure he was understanding his parents correctly; he might after all be free from Pansy Pug Face Parkinson. "Are you really okay with this?"

"Draco you can do as you please, be with whom you please," his father responded seriously before continuing in a chuckle, "┘its not as if he will get pregnant, whoever he may be." Coughing softly to compose himself, he continued more seriously, "┘I would prefer it if you refrained from having any sort of dalliance with mudbloods."

"But of course father," Draco responded quickly.

Lucius smirked, pleased that his son had turned out so well. "But Draco? You do still have to marry Pansy." At the sight of Draco's crushed face, Lucius felt compelled to explain himself. "Think of it as a merger Draco, look how rich you will be when you have both the Malfoy and Parkinson fortunes."

"But Pansy?" Draco groaned.

"You don't have to be faithful Draco, just provide an heir. Who you sleep with outside of that is your own concern. The girl is after all grotesque, I would expect at least a dalliance or two. The marriage is just for appearances sake, think of her as a trophy wife."

"Bit of dull trophy, pure blood or not." Draco commented dryly, Lucius chuckled as his son's wit. "So do I have to keep it a secret?"

"No Draco you don't, " Lucius sighed, "┘but once you are married you will have to be more discreet. We can pass off any present dalliance as experimentation." Lucius got up from the table, giving Draco a fatherly pat on the back. "Draco go conclude your packing, you leave tomorrow and with the Parkinson's coming you may not have time to pack latter on." Lucius spoke as he headed towards the exit.

"Yes father." Draco remained seated for a moment just letting the conversation clarify itself. He still had to marry Pansy. At the very least, he had not got into trouble and he could openly do whatever he wanted until he married Pansy after which time he could do whatever he wanted as long as he was discreet. It was not as bad as he had expected even if he did still have to marry pug face.

Draco sighed as he left the breakfast room; he hated the hike he had to endure just to get from the main living areas to his suite. Such was the monstrous proportions of Malfoy Manor he had to trudge along a series of halls, through a maze of corridors and up numerous flights of stairs to get to his bedroom. He wanted to learn to apparate desperately, his parents could, and it made navigating the huge house much quicker and easier. His parents could apparate wherever they wanted in the house, no effort required and they never had to encounter the stairs or corridors - which was why his mother had never bothered to redecorate them.

During her time at the manor she had decorated just about every room in the house as a consequence, Malfoy Manor was considerably brighter than it had been at any other time in history. The halls, corridors and stairs she never bothered with but she was forbidden to touch the dungeons, these areas retained the stereotypically evil dИcor his grandfather had been so fond of much to Draco's distaste. His father however was also fond of the sinister dИcor, but he was content to let Narcissa have free reign with the house as long as she kept her colour charts out of his dungeons. He ruled those dungeons; though what he actually did there Draco could only guess, as his proper Dark Arts training would only begin after he had finished at Hogwarts. Occasionally Draco would hear a decidedly sinister laugh - of the MWAHHAHAHAHAHAHA - variety bellowing from the dungeons and he always hoped that his training did not involve developing on of those.

: Draco returned to his room to find it spotless the house elves having been in to make his bed and tidy his bathroom. At the foot of his bed stood his school trunk; the lid open awaiting Draco's finishing touches. Walking over and peering in Draco noticed that the house elves had packed it with most of the things he needed for his stay at Hogwarts, his school robes and clothes were neatly folded inside, his school books and stationary neatly staked and his broom carefully packed. Draco only had to add his personal belongings and other items he did not trust the house elves to select accurately by themselves. Rummaging through the draws of his bathroom cabinet and dressing room table, he extracted the things he could not live with out such as his colognes, deodorant, moisturisers, his loofah, his pumice stone, his hair gel and those trusty tweezers. Zipping the contents into a toiletry bag Draco carefully placed his grooming kit into his trunk thankful that he had two of everything so he could make himself look fantastic in the morning. Quickly scouring his closet, Draco added some other minor items he thought he ought to take with him. He left the most important item for last.

Padding over to his bed, Draco picked up a glass ball from his bedside cabinet. Purple and green sand swirled around the inside of the ball like a storm. Draco smiled ferrally down at the ball. Revenge was sweet and this little gem was going to make it even sweeter. He laughed out loud as he thought of Harry and wondered how the famous Boy Who Lived, had copped with his summertime dreaming. He almost hopped that Potter looked haggard from a restless summer. Almost. After all he wanted Potter to look good when he took him.

Draco clasped the glass object in his hand triumphantly; it had been one of his most brilliant ideas ever. The Dreamer had the power to influence a persons dream in special ways depending upon how the creator enchanted it. Draco had enchanted two identical glass balls, one for himself and one for Potter. As long as Draco kept his with him and Potter's was in the same room as him, even if it was in a trunk, Harry would have erotic dreams about Draco. He had enchanted it to give Potter a taste of his dreams, as a punishment for having the cheek to ingrain himself in Draco's subconscious. After suffering from Potter dreams for over a month during his last term at Hogwarts the idea had come to him in the form of a vague recollection from a book he had read. Draco had sifted through the special books his father gave him until he had found what he was looking for - the dreamer, the perfect way to extract revenge on Potter for making him suffer. It was one of the rare times he actually understood why his father felt the need to laugh madly when concocting something sinister even if Draco had managed to refrain from laughing madly himself.

Draco had easily obtained to glass balls from Hogsmeade and had quickly set about enchanting them to encourage dreams in which Harry and Draco interacted in a variety of naked and blatantly sexual activities. Although creating them had been extremely easy, Draco had initially had trouble slipping the dreamer to Potter as he had no access to Potter's things during the school term and he doubted the Boy Who Lived would accept a gift from him. In the end Draco had had to wait for the trip home from Hogwarts at the end of the school year to gain access to Potter's trunk. He had slipped it into the bottom of the Potter's trunk with all the other forgotten things hoping that the raven-haired boy wasn't one to clean out his trunk.

Draco supposed that some people might feel ashamed of taking such underhand and unfair revenge, and Draco could admit that it was quite unfair, but he was proud of his actions. The only problem with the dreamer was that it did not cure his own dreams, nor did it make them worse, the only thing it did was ensure that Potter would have dreams of an erotic nature about Draco. There was only one thing that would eradicate Draco's dreams and he fully intended to do it; he would fuck the Boy Who Lived out of his system. Gay or straight, willing or unwilling Draco would have Harry Potter and if everything went exceptionally well he would also crush him. Draco placed the ball in a velvet case then gently laid it on top of his clothes snapping the lid of his trunk with an audible click.

Draco lay down on his bed, arms crossed over his chest and a smile playing across his lips as he thought of Narcissa's Homosexual Indicators. He certainly could not fault her with one of them, if one likes boys then they are more inclined to look at boys but he seriously doubted someone's appearance could always give them away as his mother had suggested. Draco was pretty certain that there were gay people on the planet whom were messy and dressed badly. Draco hopped that Potter was one of them because according to Narcissa's Gaydar he was a rampant heterosexual. As for himself, Draco was just vain and that would be part of his character no matter what his sexual orientation.

He remained on the bed for over an hour, devising and refining his plans to get the Boy Who Lived into bed. He was fairly certain that it would work, but he would have to wait at least a week before he could make any real move; he needed to see how the dreamer was working. If the unfortunate occurred and his plans were fruitless Draco had a back up. Violence. If he could not get Potter there willingly and ready to fulfil Draco's every desire than he would just take him by force, either way Draco would have Harry 'and' have him out of his system by Christmas.

Draco leapt up from the bed remembering Pansy's immanent arrival he could spend no more time making plans for Potter. Rushing over to the fireplace, Draco prepared it for a wizarding call. He would demand that Crable and Goyle arrive immediately and stay for dinner, they being trusty henchmen would 'not' refuse him and Pansy could not try anything funny with them around. And again Draco understood his father's dungeon laugh but would not imitate it. Apparently it was innate. One day, Draco knew he too would laugh madly. 


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter Six: Don't Touch Me**

"Not again!" Harry groaned frustratedly. Sighing he sat up in his bed giving up all thoughts of sleep. He had yet to have a decent nights sleep since discovering the identity of his dream, blonde lover. Unfortunately for Harry the dreams appeared to have intensified since his return to Hogwarts two weeks earlier.

Every night Harry dreamt, with striking vividness, about Draco Malfoy and himself engaged in lurid acts. He could taste, smell and feel every moment of his dreams with a disturbing lucidity. Harry knew that the Draco Malfoy of his dreams had beautiful smooth, pale, skin with barely a trace of hair to mar that creamy beauty. He knew exactly where to touch Malfoy to send the boy spinning over the edge, in fact he knew many things about dream Malfoy that he would rather not know at all. But what Harry found most disturbing about his dreams was the fact that he was a consensual partner whom appeared to be having the most amazing time of his life. That was of course until he woke up and could reflect on the nightmare just past.

Once he woke up, Harry was left feeling sullied and utterly perplexed. He would often end up shuddering in disgust after one of these dreams before he could even begin to try and make sense of this confusing aspect of his life. He did not want Malfoy when he was awake yet every single night he dreamt of the evil Slytherin; every night his body yearned for Malfoy. Harry could admit that the boy was attractive but he had absolutely no desire to get either physically or emotionally closer to the blonde Slytherin. After two weeks of this torture it was unsurprising that Harry had begun to question his own sanity and that he was beginning to suspect that he was fundamentally perverse.

Harry sighed deeply as he fluffed up his pillows, he was intent on ensuring his bodily comfort to compensate for his mental anxieties. The dreams were seriously and negatively impacting upon the rest of his life; he expended an awful lot of energy avoiding Malfoy. Except for during meals and classes Harry refused to go anywhere he knew there was the possibility of running into the Slytherin. To avoid prolonging any unfortunate interaction with Malfoy Harry had taken to ignoring Malfoy's jibes by walking away. He just found it extremely difficult to deal with Malfoy considering how he appeared in Harry's dreams - always so incredibly naked and wanton. Harry could not look him in the face without blushing profusely or breaking out in a sweat. In short, Harry felt extremely uncomfortable whenever he was around the boy so he avoided him, he ran away from Malfoy and the feelings the boys presence could trigger.

Running away from things that made him feel uncomfortable was fast becoming Harry's standard response. Since his return to Hogwarts Harry had been feeling increasingly alienated from Ron and Hermione. The worst part was that he knew it was entirely his fault; they had done nothing to make him feel this way. Nothing had really changed about them - unless one counted the times they got carried away kissing in front of Harry - it was just Harry felt guilty about not telling them his secret. This guilt made him feel so uncomfortable when he was around them all he wanted to do was escape. Instead of solving the problem he would make excuses and run from his best friends. As a consequence he was spending much more time with Semus and Dean; around them he never really felt any guilt at all. Together they were rapidly going through the bag of mischief aids Fred had given him before he left for Hogwarts. This was the only promise he had managed to keep.

"Urghh," Harry sighed quietly, he refused to think about Draco Malfoy or the problems he was having with his friends. All it ever did was annoy and depress him further and all he ever did was stress and make grand plans about how he would tell them but he 'never' followed through with any of them. He did not have the guts.

Harry reached out to his bedside table in search of his glasses and wand locating both easily. He always kept his glasses and wand close by because the absence of either left him feeling vulnerable and exposed (not to mention blind, in the case of his glasses).

"Lumos," Harry whispered quietly so as not to wake up his roommates. Light shone out the end of his wand illuminating the dark space of his curtained bed and allowing him to read the time on his watch. Harry threw the watch back on the table in disgust, realising he still had an hour before he had to get up fro the day. "Nox," he whispered extinguishing the light from the end of his wand.

An hour he would have to spend without company, an hour without any respite from his thoughts and problems. Thinking constantly was the worst part of not being able to sleep. Everything got blown out of proportion and confused when he thought about it too deeply. Harry wished he could go back to sleep, a dreamless sleep, but he never could after one of those dreams. He had been having to function on the smallest amount of sleep since returning to school. In his exhausted state Harry had been feeling almost utterly incapable of dealing with the pressures placed on him at Hogwarts. In a moment of clarity over the weekend, while Ron and Hermione had been at Hogsmeade, Harry had managed to work out some solutions to the problems plaguing him since his return to school.

For two weeks Harry's teachers had been constantly stressing how important their final year of schooling was, and how much of an impact their NEWT results would have on the rest of their lives. Anyone not apprehensive about their final year before returning to Hogwarts was acutely anxious after enduring two weeks of their teacher's persistent warnings. Harry supposed the teachers were just trying to ensure that the students took the year seriously but he felt their methods unadvisable; they had just managed to stress everyone out before they even had any significant assignments to complete. As far as Harry was concerned the Potions master was the worst. Professor Snape had spitefully suggested that Harry would need to spend every spare moment studying potions just to pass.

Harry had decided on the weekend that he would just have to try his best and accept whatever results he earned. There was no point in stressing out about NEWT's, especially when Harry did not need them for what he planned on doing with the rest of his life. He did not want to be an Auror or work for the Ministry of Magic as everyone suspected rather Harry wanted to be a professional Quidditch player.

Harry smiled, imaging himself robed in the English team uniform racing around on his broom and catching the snitch so that England won the World Cup. For Harry it would be the perfect job, he absolutely adored the sport and loved flying. While Harry did not need NEWT results for his dream to come true he did have to prove to the selectors how good he was at flying and at being a seeker. Harry had improved greatly over the last two years and hoped to get even better. He had spent hours practicing over the holidays and since returning to Hogwarts - usually when he was trying to escape Ron and Hermione.

But Quidditch placed its own pressures on Harry and they had more of an impact on him that the pressures of his school work. He expected Gryffindor to win the cup and as team captain Harry had to ensure they won. His house expected them to win; Gryffindor had won two years in a row (though technically it was 3 because the Quidditch Championship was cancelled during his fourth year in favour of the Triwizard Tournament). If Gryffindor failed to win the team cup it was not going to be through lack of preparation as Harry had spent a great deal of time organising practice schedules and devising complicated plays for the team. He had become quite a conscientious captain this year - one of the only bonuses of avoiding Ron and Hermione.

Harry fully expected the team to begin regular training sessions on Wednesday evening. He knew he was pushing his team but they had to win. They deserved to win, Gryffindor was by far and way the best team at Hogwarts. All seven players were exceptionally skilled and Harry was immensely proud of them but they had a new tradition to maintain.

The only problem Harry envisaged with the Gryffindor team was that four of the seven players were in seventh year. Four players would be gone at the end of the year leaving the Gryffindor team and next year's captain with out an experienced keeper (Ron), seeker (Harry) or any beaters (Semus and Dean). Harry had been thinking about this a lot since his return to Hogwarts. If the Gryffindor team was not all that good next year Harry felt it would be at least partially his fault because of the position selections he had made during his stint as captain. In a moment of brilliance when Ron and Hermione were in Hogsmeade Harry had thought of a good idea to solve his problem. Harry thought they should set up training sessions for those who wanted to be on the team next year so they could teach them the rules, give them experience and provide them with a chance to develop their skills. This way next year's captain would have ample people from which to select a quality team.

Thinking about the training squads reminded Harry that he would have to see Collin Creevy about it and preferably before breakfast, Harry needed this weight off his mind. Harry would not have the time to run the squad himself because he had his own team to look after and his increased schoolwork to keep up with. Collin was the logical choice; after the seventh years he was the oldest on the team and thus most likely to be Quidditch captain once Harry left Hogwarts. Harry was not looking forward to chatting with Collin as the boy idolised Harry to such an extent he found it quite embarrassing.

Pulling back the curtains of his four paster bed, Harry jumped out of bed determined to talk to Collin before breakfast and rid himself of at least one worry in his life. He grabbed a fresh set of robes and his toiletries before quietly making his way out the dormitory and towards the bathroom. The only bonus about his odd sleeping pattern was that he always awake in time to enjoy an empty bathroom and hot showers.

Harry left the bathroom merely twenty minutes latter looking refreshed though he still felt tired. Most of his shower time was spent spanking the monkey and then cleaning, he never bothered spending much time on his appearance. There was nothing he could do to tame his wild hair so he never really bothered.

Harry arrived back in his dormitory to find his housemates in various states of alertness. Blurry-eyed boys tried desperately to summon the strength to wrench themselves from the comfort of their beds. Unfortunately for Harry, Ron was already awake and out of bed.

"Morning Ron," Harry greeted as he put away his toiletries and threw his pyjamas under his pillow.

"Hey," Ron grumbled rubbing his tired eyes. Harry ambled towards the door, sighing when Ron caught onto his movements.

"Hey Harry wait for me," Ron said hopefully. "I'll just have a quick shower and…"

"Sorry Ron I can't. I have to go find Collin," Harry interrupted, heading for the door. "I'll see you down at breakfast," he called over his shoulder as he swiftly exited the room.

**::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::**

"Hey baby," Ron called cheerily, jogging across the common room towards his girlfriend.

"Don't call me that Ronnikins," Hermione chuckled playfully, reaching up to give her boyfriend a quick hug and kiss. "Where's Harry?"

"Oh he said he had to go talk to Collin, probably something about Quidditch," Ron answered vaguely.

"Hmmm," Hermione muttered her mouth twisting in concentration.

"What?" Ron asked dumbly.

"Well is a bit odd isn't it, he's hardly ever around anymore. We always go to breakfast together but he's always doing something else these day's. He didn't even come to Hogsmeade with us."

"He's just really busy Hermione," Ron said weakly. He had noticed Harry's absences and it hurt. If they did spend any time together outside of class then it was usually brief; Harry would make excuses about needing to do something or other and then leave before they had a chance to stop him. Just like he had done this morning. Ron missed spending time with Hermione and Harry together but he 'really' missed spending time alone with Harry; he missed doing boy things. As Harry was supposed to be his best friend Ron found it quite strange and hurtful that Harry preferred just about anyone's company to his; Ron had even seen Harry hanging out with Neville quiet a bit. Ron was also slightly jealous that Harry had been spending so much time with Semus and Dean, and it hurt him that Harry preferred causing mischief with them (he also wondered why Harry was so well stocked with WWW products).

"I know he's busy with Quidditch but do you really think that's all it is?" Hermione asked, studying Ron's face and noting the hurt and worry. "Maybe he just doesn't like being around us when we're together?"

"But he said he was happy for us."

"Yeah I am sure he is but maybe he just feels uncomfortable around us now that the group has altered slightly." Hermione said sadly, she hoped that wasn't the problem but she could not fathom what else might cause Harry to act so strangely towards them in particular.

"What? We're all still friends."

"Of course we are Ron, but you and I have something on top of that and it doesn't include Harry so maybe he feels left out sometimes or not as close to us as before. Maybe its us that makes him feel left out." Hermione explained wisely.

"Should I ask him about it?" Ron asked. He hoped they could work out the problem because he was really beginning to miss Harry. Ron just hoped that Harry's behaviour was not because his best friend just did not like him anymore.

"Just wait, we should try and be a little more attentive and not snog in front of him and see how he responds to that."

"Alright." Ron kissed the top of her head. "Now I really think its time for breakfast." As if on cue Ron's stomach grumbled loudly.

**::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::**

Despite being the first to wake Harry was one of the last Gryffindors down for breakfast. His talk with Collin was less agonising than he had expected but the younger boy had kept him talking longer than he would have preferred. Collin had been so excited that Harry wanted to talk to him and had positively glowed when Harry told him he was entrusting Collin with the responsibility for the training programs. Harry had eventually managed to slip away leaving the younger boy to make plans.

"Hey," Harry greeted as he slid into his seat next to Semus at the end of the Gryffindor table. The Gryffindors offered cheery greeting before slipping back into their own conversations.

"How are you Harry?" Hermione asked concernedly.

"Good thanks," Harry replied reaching for some pancakes and depositing them on his plate. Not feeling like joining the excited chatter of the breakfast table Harry concentrated on eating his breakfast.

He could feel the stares of Ron and Hermione boring into his head; it was as if they were trying to look into his soul. Fixing a big smile on his face Harry forced himself to look at them, he was relieved to note they visibly relaxed at his display of cheeriness.

Harry swept his eyes over the great hall eventually settling on the blonde Slytherin. He looked quite attractive with his soft, sleek hair neatly in place. He always sat so poised at the Slytherin table oozing wealth and breading. When Harry had first realised who was haunting his dreams he had never noticed how attractive Malfoy was but he could admit it to himself these days. Malfoy was beautiful and almost effeminate, but his delicate features and gestures were totally at odds with his malicious nature. Though he could admit that the boy was attractive, outside those nightmares Harry did not want Draco Malfoy. In fact he did not really want anyone other than Fred, and his lover was diametrically opposed to Draco Malfoy. Where Fred was warm and inviting, offering fun and mischief, Draco was cold and uncaring, offering violence and mind games.

Presently, the blonde Slytherin looked extremely annoyed at Pansy Parkinson who appeared to be sitting particularly close to him and trying to engage the unresponsive boy in conversation. Harry smiled; it was quite amusing to someone ruffle the cool façade Malfoy liked to assume.

"Harry." Ron waved his hand in front of Harry's face jerking Harry's attention away from the Slytherin table and onto Ron. "You've mail," Ron explained, he indicated the letter that had fallen on top of Harry's pancakes.

"Oh Thanks," Harry said ignoring the concerned look Ron and Hermione exchanged he picked up the envelope and instantly knew it was from Fred.

"Who is it from?" Ron asked.

"Sirius", Harry lied, grateful that Ron had not noticed the scrawly, distinct handwriting.

Dear Harry,

How are things going? Hows school? Met a young, buff boy to try your new skills out on yet? I've not been doing very much since you left - just working - so I don't have any exciting news but I did not write to talk about me. I'm just writing to ask how things are with Ron and Hermione? I know its only been two weeks but please tell me you have told them. I'm worried about you and you did promise me that you would tell them so don't forget. Also bear in mind your other task. I don't want to say too much in case the letter is intercepted but tell me if you need any more supplies - you know what I mean. I miss you.

Luv Fred

PS. Can't wait till you get home for Christmas break. When you get home I want to see you….

Harry stopped reading and quickly stuffed the letter into his pockets, wiping his sweaty hands on his robes. He would have to read the rest of Fred's letter later when he was alone. The last thing he needed at the breakfast table was an erection he could not touch.

**::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::**

Draco's day had begun routinely, there was nothing to suggest what horrible treats he would be in store for when he awoke this morning. Just as he did every day Draco had awoken from a graphic Potter dream and had then proceed to touch himself to climax. Nowadays he just accepted the fact that he kept Potter in mind when he played with himself, it was pointless to deny himself the pleasure, especially when he was consciously planning on seducing the famous Boy Who Lived.

By breakfast however, Draco was well aware that he was not going to have a good day. The first indication had come just after his shower when his hair had stubbornly refused to sit correctly. Though it still looked neat and styled, and Draco doubted anyone would notice difference he did not feel right. His hair was wrong and he felt out of sorts. He almost felt ugly but thankfully he had a healthy self-esteem.

Once he had gotten down to breakfast the day deteriorated rapidly. Pansy, not one to read moods accurately, was apparently feeling rather loving towards Draco this morning and could not sense his annoyance. Draco had initially ignored her but now he had to contend with the fact that Pansy was virtually on his lap. He would have to do something about it because she was getting uncontrollable, and seriously hampering the chances of him being able to start the day happy.

"Draco?" Pansy whispered leaning closer to him, her hand came up to rest on his thigh and her fingers lightly brushed against his crotch.

Draco looked down into his lap, a sinister smirk playing across his face. He reached down to put his hand on hers trapping it there and causing Pansy to giggle in anticipation. Draco's smirk grew wider as he gripped her hand tightly and cruelly crushed her delicate fingers. "DON'T. TOUCH. ME." Draco hissed, brining their joined hands back up from under the table.

"Draco you're hurting me," Pansy whimpered pathetically.

"Good," Draco hissed again, crushing her fingers briefly and painfully, eliciting a cry of pain from Pansy before he threw her hand aside in disgust.

They had now attracted the attention of the Slytherin table, their housemates were watching avidly as Draco put Pansy back in her place. No one liked Pansy very much but she was particularly unpopular with the Slytherin females because of her 'claims' on the sexiest Slytherin. The boys watching the exchange sympathised with Draco, no one could blame him for not wanting the attentions of Pansy Parkinson.

"I thought you'd like it Draco," Pansy snivelled head bowed and unaware that the entire table was listening to the exchange.

"You obviously didn't think long enough," Draco snapped harshly causing Pansy to flinch as though he had struck her.

"But we're going to be married Draco, " Pansy whined. "I thought you would like it. I thought it was time we got a little closer. I thought you would want that..." Pansy trailed off, suddenly aware of the sniggers coming from the rest of the table.

"Pansy I will only touch you when we need to procreate and believe me I am looking into ways to ensure I only ever have to do that once," Draco hissed spitefully. "Its not an experience I want to repeat," Draco smirked enjoying Pansy's embarrassment and obvious confusion. The Slytherins listening to their conversation tried unsuccessfully to stifle their laughter. Draco could see Crable and Goyle had identical grins on their faces.

"What are you saying Draco?" Pansy asked disbelievingly.

"Presumably you mean aside from the fact that you're ugly and I don't want to touch you - because I think I have made those points quite clearly," he drawled nastily, the Slytherins sniggering at Pansy. "I. AM. GAY." Draco finished clearly. He enjoyed hearing the shocked gasps that rocketed around the Slytherin table and the cries that erupted from the girls who he knew were in love with him.

Draco leaned closer to Pansy, "I would rather fuck Potter than you," he whispered spitefully so only she could hear before quickly drawing back with a smirk on his face.

" I… I could c-cure you Draco," Pansy whispered, attempting to put her hand back under the table and on his crotch.

"Its not a disease Pansy, it's a preference," Draco laughed swatting her hand away. "I like 'boys'," he chuckled meanly, someone of the Slytherins over the shock of Draco's announcement joined in his laughter. Others also over the shock jumped out of their seats to spread the news. This slightly annoyed Draco but he refused to let it bother him. The laughter increased when Pansy ran out the Great Hall snivelling.

It was going to be one of those days Draco thought as he heard the frantic whispering buzzing throughout the Great hall. He could feel the eyes of more and more students on him as the news spread to the other houses. Draco stood up and strode gracefully across the hall, he turned and bowed before swiftly making his way out the hall not caring to see the students response.

**::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::**

Harry had been stunned when the frantic whispers had finally reached his end of the Gryffindor table. Draco Malfoy was gay. He had almost not believed the news but he knew it must be true. Harry had seen Pansy and Malfoy arguing about something and then he had witnessed Malfoy bow to the Great Hall. In one movement he confirmed the rumour.

He could not believe Malfoy had just come out and announced his homosexuality to the entire Slytherin House at breakfast - and as it turned out the whole school. Harry had always thought of Malfoy as a cowardly sort of person but that announcement took real courage. He was quite impressed with Malfoy's bravery but he still thought the boy to be a malicious prick. In Harry's opinion Malfoy was now a ballsy, malicious prick.

Harry had spent the rest of the day watching Malfoy closely though he still avoided having any direct interaction with the blonde Slytherin. He watched him closely trying to gauge how people responded to Malfoy now they knew he was gay. Aside from a few people making rude gestures Harry was pleasantly surprised to find that everyone else appeared to take the news exceptionally well. Anyone who said anything nasty to the blonde boy appeared to end up spending some quality time with Goyle's fist. At some point during the day Harry had decided he should tell Ron and Hermione. Just after lunch he had vowed to tell them during their free time between the end of classes and dinner.

Harry was feeling extremely nervous now that the time had come for him to spill the beans. It was much easier to feel determined when the significant moment was in the future but he had to do it now. His friends were sure to be in the common room waiting patiently for Harry to return from his last class. He knew that all he had to do was march into the common room and discreetly pull Ron and Hermione aside but then he had to tell them his secret and that was the hard part. Harry suspected apparation would be easier and preferable to this even if he did end up splinched.

"Password?" The Fat Lady requested. Harry shuffled on the spot trying to summon the courage to enter the common room.


	6. AN

I have quite a few emails about me copying this story from someone else While i have posted stories before that are from other authors i have always stated this fact in the story, as well as asking the authors permission, this story however is 100% my own and would appreciate people not accusing me of such things. 


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